The Infected
by Maddiecake
Summary: A strange illness is sweeping the East Side of Tulsa... how will everyone survive?
1. Chapter 1

_In the summer of 1966  
14 blocks of Tulsa's  
East Side  
were quarantined. _

The source of the outbreak  
is  
**STILL UNKNOWN  
**  
Those who survived spent the  
next 3 days defending themselves against

**The Infected.  
**-West Side Story trailer parody

I do not own anything, only Lia (who appears briefly... several times).

* * *

_Log- _

Three weeks. Three weeks_ since the sicknesses started, three days until it was no longer contagious.  
I didn't have it, luckily enough, but some of my gang wasn't very lucky. Poor guys- they had no idea what they were doing half the time.  
Supplies are low; and it's dangerous to go out onto the streets now. Infected people are wandering around Tulsa, even on the West side... of course, they don't have to worry about anything. They've got food, for crying out loud! _Food_!  
But... we're probably one of the lucky ones. Just last week, I went to stick my head out the door and saw Shepard on the doorstep, his back ripped open and his spine missing.  
Tulsa. Is. Hell. _

-Darry Curtis

Darry set the log back onto his desk, and walked into the living room. Johnny lay on the couch, his eyes blank. Ever since that disease had hit him, he had been like that. Just silent, staring. Two-Bit and Soda, the other two who had got it, were different. While Two-Bit was still as goofy as ever, he didn't seem to smile anymore. Soda, meanwhile, had become depressed.

There were only a few people that had had the sickness pass through them without staying permanently. Those people knew of the hell others were forced to endure every day, and the horrors that the mind would create.

Johnny sat up and looked around the room. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he shuddered involuntarily. He bit his bottom lip and looked out the window, where the stars were shining brightly.

_It's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing..._ His mind was like a broken record, repeating the same thing until he thought he would go insane.

"It's nothing." Johnny whispered as he drummed his fingers on the wood and peered nervously out the window.

He was just about to give up, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

It was a figure, lurching down the street, only a few houses away. Every few seconds, it would pause and look around, as if confused. Something else was moving down the street as well. At the speed it was moving (and the irregular shape of the hindquarters) Johnny guessed that it was a child on a tricycle.

The smaller figure stopped, inches away from the larger one, and then a ear-splitting screech filled the air. The larger figure swooped down upon the child, and, despite the distance from the Curtis house, the crunching of bones and the popping of flesh could be heard.

Johnny jumped away from the window, his eyes wide with horror. He had known that the Infected would resort to cannibalism (how else were they to get food?) but... that was a _child_!

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Ponyboy asked from beside him. "Who they eat?"

Johnny shook his head, forcing the bile that had risen in his throat back down.

"Did you... were you ever... y'know..."

This time, he turned to face the younger boy. Had he ever been tempted to feast on human flesh? To tear the skin from someone's bones? Johnny shuddered, remembering how he had thrown himself against the bedroom door in an attempt to get at the others. He had been so _hungry_... not just for regular food, but for...

"I... I gue—yeah." Johnny mumbled, feeling ashamed of himself.

Ponyboy threw an arm around his shoulders, and smiled warily. "Well, at least you're not that way forever, right?"

"Right."

"Did it... hurt?"

"What?" Johnny asked emotionlessly.

"Being sick like that."

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, your mind starts to go all funny, and you get real hungry. But you ain't really hungry for anything... normal. It's like; you want to eat... _people_, Pone. And you start wanting to just kill anything that's in your way of getting to people. You get real cold, too. Like you've been stuck in a freezer somewhere, and you're freezin' to death. After all that's over, your mind comes back, but part of you's just gone, and it ain't gonna come back," Johnny's voice was shaking now. "And you... you feel really... like you want to just... you feel so _bad_. Depending on how long you've had it, you're hungry, an' since the cold wears off, you're feeling like you're about to die from the heat. Then these images just get caught in your brain. You just want to kill yourself, Pony. Yeah, it hurts."


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own The Outsiders**_  
_  
"Shitshitshitshitshit!" Ponyboy sprinted down the street, a bag of food in his hand, Johnny not far behind. Those two were the smallest, and although Johnny was slow, he was fast enough.

"C'mon, hurry up!" Soda exclaimed, looking anxiously past them at the figures that lurched past shops not far behind.

Johnny tried to adjust his grip on the bag that he was carrying, and tripped, landing on the pavement. There was a sickening _pop_ that could be heard as the bone in his wrist broke. His face was contorted in pain, but he got to his feet.

Not fast enough.

There was a flash of pain as one of the Infected bit into his arm, the same one with the broken wrist. Johnny let out a strangled cry, trying to get himself free from the person that was currently trying to rip the flesh from his arm off completely.

He was afraid. The disease had been declared no longer contagious, but that wasn't through contact with the person. If the saliva entered his bloodstream... could he get it again. The very thought terrified him, and he tried harder to pull away.

One minute, the person was chewing on his arm, and the next it was laying on the sidewalk, the skull cracked open. Soda stood behind it, a bloody board clutched in his hands.

"Are you okay?"

There was no response. Johnny was staring at his arm, watching as the blood poured from the wound and dripped onto the sidewalk. There were deep teeth marks, and in one particular one Soda could see white; bone.

"Johnny?"

When Johnny looked at Soda, the greaser felt himself break out in a cold sweat. That look... Soda knew that look. He had seen Johnny with it before, and Two-Bit had had it, and he had had it as well... that despairing look, that half-crazed hungry look...

Johnny was infected again.

"Shit... uh... DALLAS!" Soda yelled, not even bothering to consider the fact that he had given away their location. There was some commotion from an alley, before Dallas appeared, a banana peel in his hair, looking disheveled and irritated, but okay.

"Huh?"

"Johnny got bit... he doesn't look to good, man."

Dallas approached Johnny, inspecting the wound with a frown on his face. Granted, he was not a doctor, nor was he good in the field of medical science, but he knew a bad thing when he saw it.

This was, indeed, a bad thing.

He swore, holding onto Johnny's shoulder as the younger boy swayed; his eyes glassy. "Johnny, can you hear me?"

Ponyboy approached slowly, watching Johnny for any signs of movement. "Maybe you should carry him back, Dal... or Soda, you can..."

Sodapop surveyed Johnny for a moment and then sighed. "We gotta get moving, then... he's changin' faster than last time."

**-enigmatic-**

By the time they got back to the Curtis' house, Johnny was burning up, but he complained about being too cold. Every once in a while, as shudder would run through him, and he would feel that hunger for flesh again.

"Soda, I—what the hell happened?" Darry closed the door behind the group, telling Two-Bit to get some bandages or something to stop the blood that continued to come out of Johnny's arm.

"He got bit, Dar," Soda said, depositing Johnny on the couch. "We gotta lock him up again."

Darry looked down at Johnny, who had begun to shake. His fingers were digging into the couch, and his face was screwed up, although whether it was from the pain or because he was keeping himself from doing something, Darry wasn't sure.

Two-Bit reappeared with the bandages, and handed them over to Darry, who handed them to Ponyboy, who began to try and stop the blood (by this time it was drying, which didn't help much).

All at the same moment, the members of the gang felt something pass through them. Soda shuddered, feeling afraid and almost... guilty. Darry felt the need to step up and stop something from hurting his friends and family. Dallas felt concern and fright. Steve felt anger and shock. Two-Bit felt familiar... and somewhat responsible. Ponyboy felt afraid and anxious.

It was then that Johnny, who had been unconscious, opened his eyes. His pupils were cat-like slits, and he growled, pushing himself off the couch and lunging at Darry, trying to sink his teeth into his side. The man jumped aside just in time, letting out a startled yell.

"Shit," Two-Bit hissed, afraid to go near Johnny. He watched as the boy jumped at Darry again, and instead fell into the coffee table.

Darry scrambled back, and Johnny turned toward Dally. His eyes narrowed and he growled again, advancing toward his prey. "Dallas..." The word sounded foreign, and the voice itself was so different from Johnny's normal soft, slightly raspy one that it shocked Dallas.

Dally backed up, until he found himself against a wall. Johnny continued to advance, a cruel smile slowly spreading across his face.

Just as Dally was about to wet himself from fear, a pair of strong arms wrapped around Johnny's waist and Darry pulled the young boy to him, holding him while Dallas scurried away. His usual façade was gone, replaced by naked fear.

"_NO_! YOU BASTARD LET GO OF ME! YOU FUCKING _ASS_! LET ME GO!" Johnny yelled, thrashing and trying to wriggle out of Darry's grip. He snapped at the man's arm, but wasn't able to get through the skin. Johnny tried clawing at Darry's arm, but nothing happened, except some shallow scratches.

"Johnny... Joh—stop..." Darry tried to reason with the small boy, but nothing happened. He still continued to struggle, still continued to shout at Darry, saying things that normally Johnny would never say.

"_I'LL KILL YOU!_"

"Soda, open the door to your room... I'm gonna try and get him in."

Soda walked down the hall to his room and held the door open while Darry struggled to get Johnny inside. He snapped at Darry's hand, and almost got ahold of it before Darry delivered a swift punch to Johnny's face. Normally, Darry would never have hit Johnny, but this... this wasn't Johnny. This was some beast from the lowest layer of hell who was inside one of his friends.

When Johnny was finally inside and far from the door, Soda slammed it and locked it from the outside. There was pounding and the sound of nails on wood as Johnny tried to get through the door to the people on the other side, but it was no use. At last he seemed to realize this, and there was a shrill, animal-like scream.

"Jesus..." Dallas whispered.

"Was I ever like that?" Soda asked, sitting wearily on the couch.

"Sort of... just... not as wild."

"How 'bout me?" Two-Bit questioned.

Steve shrugged. "You were actually... quiet."

Ponyboy said nothing, as he sat down in the easy chair and pulled his knees up to his chest. He hated seeing everyone go through this. It was bad enough the first time, but now it just seemed different. Johnny was more insistent.

How long would that door hold?

**-lovely-**

Three days passed, and Johnny had quieted down. Nobody would dare open the door, for fear that it was all just an act and he was ready to pounce, but by the third day they figured it was okay.

Two-Bit reluctantly volunteered to go get him. He eased open the door to Soda's room and found the bed overturned, the mattress pressed up against the other wall, and the sheets strewn about the room. There were blood marks on the walls, and deep scratches in the door that had dried blood in them.

There was no sign of Johnny.

His blue grey eyes anxiously scanned the room, and his eyes landed on the closet. It was closed, but it was the only other place in the room that Johnny could be. Two-Bit walked quickly across the room and pulled the door open.

Johnny sat in the far corner, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms resting on his knees. His eyes had a far-away look, and there were dark bags underneath them, like he hadn't slept in a long time. Sweat ran down his face, like he was burning up, and chances are he was. If Johnny was no longer sick, and had been freezing, he probably felt like it was 100 degrees or so.

His nails were broken and bloody, and his arms had deep scratches in them, the blood dried on his arms. There was a part on his right arm where the skin seemed to have been peeled away. Two-Bit gagged, wondering how desperate Johnny had become.

"Johnny... are you okay?"

The boy's lip trembled, and he bit down on it, hard until he tasted blood. Pain... it was love... forgiveness... oh _god_ he was sick...

"You... you should get those cuts and stuff checked out..."

No response.

Two-Bit held out his hand to help Johnny up, and he reluctantly took it. When he stood up, Two-Bit noticed through the holes in the knees of his friend's jeans, parts of his legs where more skin had been peeled away.

How desperate had he been?

**-break-**

Er.

Not a fan of this chapter  
and I'm sorry for breaking my updating schedule...


	3. Chapter 3

_This isn't going to be a very long fic. Again, I think the longest fic I'll have is either JRC, or The Godfather... but something like this is very time-consuming, and with the summer coming up, I want to finish NHNT, this fic, TTOTDS (Tale of the Dangerous Soup), and then work on The Godfather and JRC._

_Complicated? You bet it is._

**I don't own The Outsiders**

Two-Bit led Johnny into the living room. The boy continued to clutch his hand with a grip so tight that Two-Bit was quickly losing the feeling in his entire hand.

All heads turned as he and Johnny entered the room, and Johnny looked like he was ready to run back into Soda's room and hide there. He looked afraid, nervous, and ashamed of himself.

Dally was staring at Johnny's arm, a concerned and disgusted sort of look on his face. He had never thought someone could do that to themselves... it was just _sick_.

Soda caught Darry's eye and motioned to the bathroom. Darry nodded and Soda sped off to get some bandages.

There was complete silence, broken occasionally by the ruffling of pages as Ponyboy read in the kitchen, completely oblivious to the goings on in the living room. The silence was so thick, pressing in on everyone and making them all rather edgy.

Johnny did not meet anyone's eyes. He simply stared at his shoes, toying with the edge of his t-shirt.

They didn't realize it until it hit them.

Dallas let out a very un-Dallas-like scream as he was attacked by Johnny, the young boy's nails ripping at his eyes until they were nothing but bloody holes. The young boy bit into his idol's neck, ripping out a large chunk of flesh and devouring it before turning on Steve, who was fumbling to get the door open. It took only a matter of seconds before the greaser was lying against the wall, the base of his neck ripped open and his spinal cord laying on the floor.

Soda exited the bathroom and came into the living room just as Johnny was ripping the flesh off of Darry's arm. His brother was dead, his head cracked open with bits of brain oozing out onto the carpet. Two-Bit lay on the couch, his hand missing and his neck broken.

Johnny pounced, tackling Soda and biting into his fingers before ripping them off with a strength that Soda didn't know the boy possessed. Soda screamed, trying to back away from Johnny but found himself backing into a corner.

_Oh for the love of Ch—_with that thought in Soda's mind, Johnny reached out a blood-covered hand and grabbed the area near his friend's adams apple. He dug his nails in, and with that same strength pulled back, ripping out the front of his throat.

The house was silent, and Johnny stood in the center of the room, straining to hear any other sounds.

Ruffling.

He turned his head in the direction of the noise, his eyes narrowed.

_Ponyboy._

Johnny slowly approached the kitchen, trying not to make a sound. Maybe if Ponyboy was still reading, he could quickly finish the job.

_And eat._ He thought with a small, wicked smile.

_Creeeeeak_

Johnny mentally swore, watching as Ponyboy's head turned toward him. His face went from pleasant, to confused, to horrified. "J-Johnny... wh-what did you _do_?" His eyes were filling with tears as he spotted Darry in the doorway.

He said nothing, but quickened his pace. Ponyboy backed up, knocking over the chair and creating a barrier between them. That barrier seemed small to Johnny, insignificant. He easily stepped over it, and continued toward the youngest greaser.

"C'mon man... quit foolin' around..."

"I'm not foolin'."

With that said, Johnny threw himself at Ponyboy. He dodged, dashing out the kitchen and down the hallway (he would have gotten out safe if he had tried the door, but alas... he did not). Johnny followed after him, barely making it through Darry's bedroom door as it was flung shut.

Ponyboy was trapped.

There was a strangled scream, and then silence.

* * *

_See... told you it would be short._

_Well, I wasn't actually considering making it this short, until I realized that I would never continue this... so I'm finishing it right here and now._


End file.
